


House Cup 1992

by FletcherHonorama



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-04
Updated: 2017-03-04
Packaged: 2018-09-28 06:11:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,370
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10076081
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FletcherHonorama/pseuds/FletcherHonorama
Summary: It's the end of the school year and the Great Hall is decked out in silver and green.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Rated teen and up just for an f-bomb or two. 
> 
> This is a little add-on to a much longer story and a half I wrote many years ago as a kind of fix-it and a take-that to Harry Potter. I don't know if the whole thing still stands up, and it's much too long to read again to find out, but I came across this on my computer and I'm still pretty happy with it, so I thought I'd put it up. The OMC, Daniel, is an according-to-the-prophecy-also-could-kill-Voldemort dude, but this fic isn't really about him. It's about Dumbledore and it's about Slytherin. This whole thing still makes me so mad.

Daniel sat between Theo and Goyle and across from Daphne, just waiting for the food. He’d made it through the year without making any mortal enemies or failing any classes — he hoped. Even after being sorted into Slytherin he’d stayed friends with Lisa, Seamus and Dean. Slytherin had won the House Cup, and even though Daniel had probably lost more points than he’d won, he could easily have done worse, so he felt he deserved a little credit. Anyway, the hall was all in green and silver and there was about to be an enormous feast and before he knew it he’d be back home again. He had serious plans for summer.

Oh yeah, and he could do magic now.

The hall was full of chatter, mostly about what everyone was going to be doing over summer. There wasn’t much point in Daniel joining in, since he was going to be spending the summer in Swansea being as thoroughly Muggle as he could manage. He was going to ride his _bike_ again, and watch films and television and go on trips with his parents.

Everyone around him groaned loudly. Daniel snapped out of his happy daze and focused his eyes again. “ _I’d much rather be in Lausanne_ ,” Daphne said, clearly mimicking Draco but not completely able to hide her Scots accent under the one she was putting on.

Blaise laughed and Millicent winced. “That was terrible,” she told Daphne. “Draco’s not French any more than Blaise is Italian.”

Daphne huffed. “Why’s he so keen on the Continent, then?”

Draco lifted his chin so he could look down his nose at Daphne. “What, jealousy in the ranks?” he sneered.

“Rank is right,” Theo muttered.

“ _You_ should come, Theo,” Draco said enthusiastically. “We fly over the lake, you know, and there’s usually a Quidditch match organised at midsummer. Enough people and we make a tournament of it.”

Theo’s eyes lit up but then he shook his head. “Isn’t it kind of an exclusive event?”

“That’s the _point_!” Pansy exclaimed. “It’s going to be marvellous!”

“If Draco invites everybody he knows it won’t be quite so exclusive,” Daphne pointed out.

“No, it’ll be fine.” Blaise smiled and paused for effect before delivering his punchline. “He’s only inviting his friends.”

“Very ha,” said Draco. “I can invite anybody I like. Father won’t be able to argue, not with how well I’ve done this year. How well we’ve done this year. Look around!”

Everyone did. The hall was very, very green and it brought out a lot of smiles. Daniel smiled a little himself.

Draco was beaming. “Father said he’d buy me the new Nimbus, since I’m going to be Seeker next year. I bet I can work on him to make a donation to the whole team. He can put his name to celebrate seven years of Slytherin domination. I could get the whole of Slytherin invited to Lausanne for the next ten years, you’ll see.”

“I’ll ask my folks,” said Theo.

“Are they going to stop you meeting Eloi Ghislain? Aline Anouk? I don’t think so.”

“I’ll ask,” Theo repeated.

“Daniel? You want to come to Lausanne? It’s really beautiful, you’d love it.”

Daniel knew he was just being polite. He was happy, and when Draco was happy he remembered his manners. It would be cruel to treat it like a serious question and tell him Daniel would take a Muggle house in Swansea over high wizard society in Switzerland every day of the week for _twenty_ years. Before he thought of something offhand enough to say a tense silence fell over the hall. Everyone shifted in their seats to see what was going on.

“It’s Potter,” Daniel heard someone whisper from up the table. Daniel refused to turn and look — that boy got enough attention as it was.

Draco’s smile faded and he stared across to the Gryffindor table as noise swelled around them again.

“Nice entrance,” Millicent commented sourly.

Goyle grunted. “Prat.”

“The Great Potter,” Daphne said, over-rolling her ‘r’s. “Saving us all from the evil of incompetent Defence teachers. Lying in the hospital wing while Ravenclaw smashes Gryffindor’s chances at the Quidditch Cup and the House Cup. And now, his greatest trick: turning up late to a feast!”

That got smiles from the rest of them, and cheered Draco up enough to look back to Daniel. “Lausanne?” he prompted.

“Nah,” Daniel said. “I’ve got plans.”

“Your birthday’s over summer, isn’t it?” Draco asked. “What’s the date again?”

“July thirty-first,” Daniel said.

Pansy laughed. “You’re a baby. Even younger than Crabbe!”

“I’ll be the one laughing when you’ve all gone grey.”

Pansy stuck out her tongue at him. Daniel decided to be dignified and just smiled back at her. He wished he was sitting close enough to kick her under the table. Not that he’d be able to reach with how wide the tables were but it was fun to imagine the look on her face.

“No witch or wizard goes grey who doesn’t want to,” said Blaise.

They were hushed from every direction all at once. Dumbledore had arrived and was about to do another speech. Daniel sat up straighter: Dumbledore made excellent speeches.

“Another year gone!” the headmaster began. “And I must trouble you with an old man’s wheezing waffle before we sink our teeth into our delicious feast. What a year it has been! Hopefully your heads are all a little fuller than they were … you have the whole summer ahead to get them nice and empty before next year starts.”

Summer. Summer, summer, summer. Daniel could practically feel it in the air.

“Now, as I understand it, the House Cup here needs awarding and the points stand thus: in fourth place, Gryffindor, with three hundred and twelve points.” Draco jeered under his breath at that so Daniel clapped politely to make up for it. “In third, Hufflepuff, with three hundred and fifty-two; Ravenclaw have four hundred and twenty-six and Slytherin, four hundred and seventy-two.”

Daniel clapped in earnest and cheered along with his house. Feet, hands and goblets thumped heavily on the floor and on the table. Julian Frobisher started up a howl of “Slytherinnnn!” and the rest of the second years joined him. They sounded awful and awesome all at the same time.

Daniel clapped Theo on the back a few times. Maybe now he wouldn’t be so lukewarm on the whole Slytherin thing. He was smiling; that was a start.

“Yes, yes, well done, Slytherin,” said Dumbledore, his voice easily carrying over the outcry.

“Damn right well done,” Daphne said. “ _Damn_ right.”

“However,” Dumbledore continued, “recent events must be taken into account.”

That shut everyone up. Triumphant gestures faltered; smiles faded. There was only one recent event important enough to be announced at this feast. Maybe now they’d find out what actually went on with Potter and Quirrell. Daniel found it hard to believe that Potter had killed him, but absolutely everyone was saying it.

“Ahem,” said Dumbledore. “I have a few last-minute points to dish out. Let me see, yes. First, to Mr Ronald Weasley, for the best-played game of chess Hogwarts has seen in many years, I award Gryffindor house fifty points.”

The Gryffindor table went nuts. “How many points are we ahead?” asked Pansy, shouting to be heard over the din.

“A hundred and ten ahead of Gryffindor now,” Theo said. “Forty-six from Ravenclaw.”

Everyone was starting to look a little grim. It took Daniel a moment to realise what they were thinking, but when he did it was a stab in the gut. “He won’t. He can’t.” He looked around at his housemates. At his house. “He can’t.”

“That’s fifty just for Weasley,” said Millicent. “He’ll give Granger another fifty, and Potter a hundred. You watch.”

“Nope,” Blaise said. He had his poise back and was already looking indifferent to the whole business. “Sixty-one for Potter.”

They looked completely convinced. Daniel looked at Theo. Theo made sense, most of the time. He wouldn’t see it as a foregone conclusion.

Theo shook his head sadly. “I told you,” he said. “Dumbledore has it in for us.”

Daniel shook his head back, frowning.

Dumbledore spoke again. “Second, to Miss Hermione Granger, for the use of cool logic in the face of fire, I award Gryffindor house fifty points.”

Blaise took a slow sip from his goblet. Pansy started to fidget in her seat. Goyle cracked his knuckles over and over again.

“They decorated the hall,” said Daniel. “They decorated the hall in our colours. There’s a giant bloody snake all over the front wall.”

“You’re right,” Millicent told Blaise. “Sixty-one for Potter.”

“Put Granger in Ravenclaw if she’s so bloody smart,” said Crabbe.

“As if Weasley can play chess,” Goyle added.

Daniel looked along the Slytherin table. Everywhere he looked he saw people setting themselves, forcing expression from their faces, shooting resentful looks up at the head table. Snape was looking over at Gryffindor and Daniel would have killed to know what he was thinking at that moment. He couldn’t just let this happen, but Daniel was damned if he knew what could be done.

“Third, to Mr Harry Potter,” said Dumbledore.

“Sixty-one points,” Blaise said with cool detachment.

“Sixty-one,” Millicent agreed under her breath.

Dumbledore broke the silence. “For pure nerve and outstanding courage, I award Gryffindor house sixty points.”

Daniel let out his breath. “See,” he shouted to Theo through the clamour. “I told you.”

He could feel the relief running through his housemates. Blaise rolled his eyes at Daphne, who poked at Millicent until she got a grin out of her. Daniel wasn’t sure whether Crabbe or Goyle had followed all the arithmetic, but Pansy looked fairly happy so it couldn’t have been that complicated.

“It’s fair,” Theo admitted to Daniel. “If half the stories about what they did are true, it’s fair enough. I suppose.”

Draco still looked green around the gills. “It’s still seven years,” Daniel shouted across the table. “We still win it!”

Draco swallowed and was about to speak when the noise in the room quickly died out again. Daniel looked to see Dumbledore with his hand raised, waiting.

“Sharing the House Cup with _Gryffindor_ ,” muttered Draco. “I feel ill.”

Dumbledore smiled widely. “There are all kinds of courage. It takes a great deal of bravery to stand up to our enemies, but just as much to stand up to our friends. I therefore award ten points to Mr Neville Longbottom.”

Daniel found himself on his feet along with half his house, and whatever he said was lost in the din. Blaise’s fist lashed out: his empty goblet flew across the table, hitting Crabbe in the shoulder. Daniel couldn’t hear what Daphne was saying but she looked to be speaking very clearly and with a lot of feeling. Draco was struck dumb; Pansy was crying. Millicent’s face was tomato-red.

Theo was standing and looking around the room in disbelief. There were tears in his eyes. He said something, but Daniel couldn’t hear him until he repeated himself. “Look,” Theo shouted. “They’re all clapping.”

Of course they were clapping. They’d just stolen the House Cup from their worst enemies. What had Theo expected them to do? Maybe it had all turned his friend’s head. “Hufflepuff,” Theo shouted with a wild gesture. “And Ravenclaw.”

Daniel climbed onto his chair to get a good look. Theo was right, but Daniel didn’t get any nasty vibes off it. They probably were just happy that Slytherin didn’t get seven in a row. And they liked Potter, for sure. It was only polite to applaud a come-from-behind victory. Right?

“Which means,” Dumbledore called out, as if he hadn’t already said plenty, “we need a little change of decoration.”

The room turned red and gold around Daniel and that was when he started to actually feel sick to his stomach. He looked across to the snake, which was now a lion, and saw Dumbledore beaming out over the hall like he was bloody Santa Claus. If Santa was in the habit of holding back all the best presents to give to his personal favourite children. Was Dumbledore even allowed to give out house points? He never had before. It was like _God_ going through and rearranging Santa’s present allocations so his chosen people would be happier than everyone else at Christmas.

And attaching labels on all the shit presents that said, “If you don’t like what you got, blame Neville Longbottom.”

Sadistic bastard. Daniel felt so stupid for having liked him. Everyone had said how bad he was but Daniel had assumed it was like how everyone said that the Muggleborn were pond scum or that Gryffindors were stupid. He’d never thought for a minute that the great Albus Dumbledore was a genuine enemy.

Snape was shaking McGonagall’s hand. His smile sent shivers running down Daniel’s spine. He jumped down quickly in case Snape looked over and saw him standing on his seat. As he sat down the food appeared; the sounds of celebration turned into the sounds of feasting.

Daniel stared at the food for a moment, his mind gone completely blank. He felt tears well up in his eyes but he blinked them away quickly — he wasn’t Pansy.

“Next year we get in quick and kill the Defence teacher before Potter gets a chance,” Millicent suggested. “Then we’ll have it in the bag.”

Everyone around her burst out in startled laughter. Theo choked a little and Daniel pounded him on the back, trying to catch his own breath at the same time.

“Start a chess club,” Daphne said with a watery smile.

“Stand up to our friends,” Blaise mused. “What does that even mean?”

“Theo, you need to bitch more about how evil Slytherin is,” said Daphne. “Daniel, you could stand to do some of that yourself.”

“I _won’t_!” Daniel said, leaping to his feet dramatically. Even Draco laughed a little at that.

Millicent raised her goblet into the air. “To Slytherin,” she said. “Fuck the rest.”

“Fuck Dumbledore,” Daniel corrected her quickly, sitting back down. “He’s the one that did it.”

She hesitated a moment, then nodded. “Right you are. Fuck Dumbledore.”

They lifted their goblets and drank to that.


End file.
